


Though Poppies Grow

by bookdragon01



Series: Security Chief's Logs [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookdragon01/pseuds/bookdragon01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for Memorial Day, I revised this recently and it seemed appropriate to reflect on Starfleet officers lost in the line of duty for the anniversary of 9/11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though Poppies Grow

**Author's Note:**

> _Note: in TOS Giotto was a lot closer to Pike's age than Kirk's, so the Giotto here is NOT Cupcake. My version is a career officer, the 'old veteran' on a ship full of 20-somethings. As such, he's the one to speak with Kirk after a mission gone bad._
> 
>  _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

**Though Poppies Grow**

 _Because the best remembrance we can offer the dead is to carry on what they stood for._

* * *

Security Chief Sam Giotto entered the darkened observation deck and approached its lone occupant. The Captain sat on a low bench, his head in his hands. The recent theoretically peaceful away mission had quickly gone sour and the weight of the consequences showed in every line of the young captain's shoulders. Giotto stopped a few paces away and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir."

Kirk looked up. "Any word?"

"Sanchez just came out of surgery, sir. He lost the arm, but the doctor says he'll make it."

"Wu and Zimmerman?"

Giotto shook his head and saw the way the news hit Kirk like a blow. The doctor had been justifiably exhausted and had asked that he speak with him. _This one hit Jim hard. He respects you, Sam._ _Talk to him._ Now Giotto struggled to swallow the lump in his own throat before trying to say more.

The Captain looked distraught. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Giotto. I tried..."

"You have nothing to apologize for, sir. You were ambushed and still managed to bring most of your people back alive." Giotto dropped his eyes. "If anyone failed here, it was me. It was _my_ job to know -"

"Stop." Kirk ordered. "If you're going to offer your resignation, I won't accept it. I saw the same intel reports you did. _No one_ could have anticipated Klingons in this sector."

Giotto nodded slightly. He hadn't quite convinced himself of that yet, but there would be time later to analyze what he'd missed. Self-recrimination was a luxury that would have to wait. "Respectfully, sir, if you won't blame me, you have no right to blame yourself."

"But I was _there_. Wu and Zimmerman -"

Giotto cut him off. "Acted in the finest tradition of Starfleet Security. They did exactly what they were supposed to do. I've reviewed the mission logs." Several dozen times in fact while waiting for news from sickbay. " _Everyone_ on the ground did exactly what they were supposed to do. You got the civilians to safety and then came back for your rear guard." He looked the Captain in the eye. "There was no choice that would not have resulted in greater loss of life."

Kirk chewed his lower lip, the stubborn refusal to admit any loss unavoidable warring with the memory of the reality he'd just faced. He could be undisciplined and impulsive, but the very fact that he refused to consider any death an acceptable loss was one of the reasons that, despite his youth, he commanded such loyalty from the crew. "I wish I could believe that."

"I know, sir."

Kirk sighed and looked away. "It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

Giotto shook his head. The Captain need comfort, but not comforting lies. "No, sir, it doesn't."

"I don't know how to keep doing this." Kirk ran a hand through his hair. "How can I be responsible for 435 lives? I'm so tired of deciding which mission is too risky and which isn't, and who's going on the landing party and who isn't. And who lives..." He trailed off.

"And who dies." Giotto finished for him.

Kirk nodded mutely and looked away. In so many ways it was easier to face death yourself than to face the doubt and guilt that came with the deaths of others, especially those under your command. Although this whole cadet class had faced an unprecedented degree of loss, for this young man who knew too well the impact of a family member killed in action, it all hit especially hard.

He sat down next to the Captain and spoke softly, almost more to the room than to the man beside him. "I've known officers who developed a certain distance, a sort of emotional callous, but to do that you have to kill something inside and it won't serve when " Sam stopped, but his voice had already betrayed him. "...when someone close to you dies."

Kirk looked up, really looked _at_ him for the first time.

Sam shook his head. "It was a long time ago." Back when he still believed Academy training was preparation enough. Giotto took another breath and reminded himself firmly that he'd come here to help the Captain through this, not re-open his own wounds. "The point is that we face the unknown out here and that means that no matter _how hard_ we try to prevent it, sometimes good people die."

"How do you handle it?" The young Captain's question bordered on a plea, and Sam wished he had some pat answer, some magic formula or ancient wisdom to give in answer. But all he had was the truth.

"I remember them, sir, and then I can remember myself."

Kirk frowned. "I don't understand."

Sam looked back out at the stars. They appeared almost red now, tinted by a reflection from the system's sun. "Have you ever read 'In Flanders Fields'?"

The Captain's brow knit a moment in thought. "Yes. 'In Flanders fields the poppies blow, Between the crosses row on row...' "

Giotto nodded. "The last lines read:

'To you from failing hands we throw  
The torch; be yours to hold it high.  
If ye break faith with us who die  
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow  
In Flanders fields.'

"My wife, and all the friends and shipmates I've lost through the years, they're all still alive _here_ ," He placed a hand to his chest. "As long as I remember them and carry on the way they'd want me to. The same with Wu and Zimmerman - they'd both be proud to know their sacrifice meant that you and the rest escaped. Grieve their loss, sir, but honor their lives. We break faith with them if we let their deaths make us less than we should be."

He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Right now, you may not know if you can keep doing this, Captain, but I know. And so did they."

**Author's Note:**

>  _AN: Kirk's dialog about not knowing if he can handle the responsibility is taken from Pike's conversation_ _with his CMO_ _in_ The Cage _._ In Flander's Fields _was written by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)._
> 
>  _...for all who have 'given the last full measure' and all who remember them.  
> _


End file.
